Nothing Else Matters
by Sue Pokorny
Summary: Sam promised to save his brother, but one year isn't really that long.


First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed my other stories. It's really wonderful to hear from you guys and find out what you think!! Thanks!

I'm sure Kripke and Co. will come up with something fantastic to save Dean, but this is my take on the sitch from my little corner of Mundania. Hopefully it holds water….

**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em. But boy… if I did….

**Nothing Else Matters**

One year.

Sounds like such a long time. Unless it's the amount of time you have left in this world. Then, not so much.

One year -- an anniversary of sorts. Most people celebrate anniversaries so why should this one be any different? Because he was going to die? Because he was going to spend an eternity in hell? Hell, he always assumed that was where he would end up anyway. At least now it was for a good reason. At least now Sammy had a chance to live a real life.

He wasn't trying to fool himself into believing that Sammy was okay with this. Even though his kid brother had finally stopped stressing over all the books he'd borrowed from Bobby and finally seemed to accept the fact that there was nothing they could do to stop the inevitable, Dean was still pretty sure that Sam was still praying for a miracle. Some kind of desperate, last minute plan that would, in all probability, get him killed.

Dean did appreciate the sentiment. Really, he did. He knew how much his brother wanted to save him. He understood the desperation – hell that's what got him into this situation in the first place. But that was Dean. Like he'd told Bobby, Dad had died to save him – he wasn't even supposed to be here. Trading his life for Sam's? That wasn't such a bad deal. It made his life worth something. Sam's life was worth it. But there was no way in hell that he was going to let Sam have even the slightest chance to risk himself.

A deal's a deal. He'd be damned if he was going to be the one to go back on it.

That had led to Plan B – getting Sammy plastered so he would pass out. Then Dean could tuck him into bed – or in this case, the back seat of the Impala -- and ensure that Sam was okay. He'd be pissed when he woke up, but at least he'd be alive. And it would all be over. That would be the only way to ensure that Sam didn't try anything stupid. Dean knew his little brother. He wasn't taking any chances.

Except Plan B didn't exactly seem to be working. They'd gone through most of the fifth of Jack Daniels and Sam still seemed to be holding his own. Normally a light weight when it came to hard liquor, Sam was matching Dean shot for shot, but he hadn't so much as slurred a word – not that he'd spoken that many in the last hour. His eyes seemed clear and even though Dean himself was feeling a slight buzz, he could swear his brother was stone cold sober.

Huh. Go figure.

"It's not gonna work."

Dean lifted his head from where it lay on the windshield of the Impala and glanced across the hood at Sam's reclining form. They had driven outside the city and parked near a cornfield, watching as the sun set beyond the rolling hills of waving stalks and the stars began to dot the darkened sky. They had passed the fifth of JD back and forth, neither man saying what was in their hearts, both hearing the other just the same.

"What's not gonna work?" Dean decided he'd play dumb. After half a fifth of whiskey, it wasn't that hard to fake.

Sam simply snorted a laugh, obviously not buying the act, and turned to face his brother. "Getting me drunk so I'd pass out before… you know."

"Not a bad idea. Shoulda thought of it myself."

"Right." Sam shook his head and lay back down on the Impala's hood. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."

Dean sighed and drained the last of the whiskey. There was something to be said for trying to find courage in a bottle. It was there – if only momentarily – but a few moments would be all he'd need anyway.

"You don't need to be here, Sammy." He tried to reason with his brother for the umpteenth time since Sam had insisted on tagging along. He kept his gaze on the twinkling stars above, but he could sense his brother turning back to him.

"Yeah, Dean, I do."

"I don't want you to be."

Sam nodded, accepting his brother's statement for what it was. Dean was still trying to protect him, even to the end. "I know you don't. But I need to be here, Dean."

Dean finally turned his head and looked at his brother appraisingly. He knew whatever happened was going to haunt Sam for the rest of his life. He wanted to spare him that. He didn't want this to be Sammy's last memory of him. But he could see that his brother really did need to be here. Whether Sam thought it was to support him or to make it easier, Dean didn't know, and to tell the truth, he was a little bit glad he didn't have to do this alone.

He was a little scared.

Not so much of dying. That was always a possibility whenever they worked a job. And he didn't regret making the deal. Not one bit. It gave him Sam back and his brother was the only thing in the world that really meant anything to him. Without Sammy, the rest of it didn't make much sense. Dean knew that was probably pretty pathetic, but there it was.

No, he didn't regret the deal. What he did regret was leaving Sam alone. Dean knew his brother would be okay – well, maybe not right away, but eventually. Sam was strong. Sam had always been strong. He would survive.

The distant sounds of low howls made Dean sit up. He knew his brother couldn't hear the hellhounds, but they were coming, and his skin turned cold as he realized his time had run out.

"Dean?" Sam had bolted upright as soon as his brother moved, sensing that Dean's hunter's instincts had suddenly gone on high alert. "Dean, talk to me." He was pretty sure of what his brother was hearing, and he held his breath trying to make out any change in the night.

"They're coming." Dean's voice was so low, Sam almost missed the whispered words. Dean took a deep breath and pushed himself off the hood of the car, his brother following suit. As soon as he could discern what direction the howling was coming from, he strained his eyes to see in the darkness, watching the horizon under the light of the moon.

Sam noted his brother's stance and moved to stand by his side. They had parked near a crossroads, figuring that was where the demon would show. Dean had hoped they wouldn't have to deal with hellhounds. He figured that if he kept his part of the bargain and showed up, there wouldn't be any need. Guess he was wrong.

Dean took another deep breath and slowly turned to his brother. He pulled the key ring from his pocket and gazed down at the worn Impala logo that adorned the leather fob. With a sad smile he held the keys out, placing them into the open palm of his brother's hand. "Take care of her, Sammy."

Sam simply nodded. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back the moisture in his eyes. He tried to return his brother's grin, but he knew it was shaky at best. Dean simply nodded, quietly appreciating the effort. He placed his hand on Sam's chest and patted it twice, leaving it there for a moment, feeling his brother's heart beating. That's what made it all worthwhile. That's why this was going to be okay.

He looked back up at his brother's face and this time his smile was genuine. "See ya, Sammy."

He turned before he lost his composure, not wanting his brother to see how much this was killing him.

"Dean." The hand on his arm stopped him and forced him to turn back. Sam took one step forward and pulled him into a crushing embrace. Dean stiffened for a moment, then returned the hug, knowing his brother needed the contact. Truth be told, he really didn't mind it himself.

"Dean, I…" Sam's voice broke and Dean could feel the shudders as his brother held in his emotion.

"I know, Sammy." He was having a hard time reigning in his own emotions at the moment. "I know. Me, too."

With one more pat against his brother's back, Dean broke the contact and, without another glance back, moved into the crossroads.

The hellhounds were close now. He could hear them growling and snarling. He could see their shadowy shapes moving in the darkness, slowly approaching. He didn't dare look back at Sam, knowing that one look at the despair on his brother's face would be his undoing. Instead, he closed his eyes, waiting, listening as the snarling and low, guttural growls came closer and closer…

..and stopped.

He opened his eyes and saw… nothing.

Confused, he swung around, starting as he came face to face with the beautiful dark haired woman who now shared the crossroads.

"Hello, Dean." The demon wore a different face, but Dean recognized the lilting speech. "I do love a man who's punctual."

Dean clenched his jaw and forced a smile. "I aim to please." His heart was beating so hard it hurt his chest, but this was familiar territory, and he had always been able to play up the bravado when necessary.

The demon grinned, an act that sent a chill down the hunter's spine. "I know, sugar. That's what got you into this mess to start with now isn't it."

"Why'd you call off your pets? Wanted the pleasure all to yourself?"

"Something like that." The demon approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder, tracing it across his neck as she circled him. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Some things deserve the personal touch."

Dean snorted his amusement, trying not to shudder under her touch. "I'm flattered."

"You should be." She completed the circle and came to stand directly in front of him, both hands caressing his chest. "I don't do this for just anyone."

Not sure how long he could keep up the act, Dean let his eyes drop to hers. "Are you gonna keep up the foreplay, or we going to get to the main event?"

The demon smiled as she gazed up at the hunter. "My, my. In such a big hurry to die?" She glanced back across her shoulder to where Sam stood by the Impala. "Maybe your brother is enjoying the show."

Dean's eyes hardened at the mention of his sibling and he looked down his nose at the demon. He grabbed her hand and pulled it from his chest. "I'm not into exhibitionism, sweetheart."

The demon pouted, but pulled her hand away. "Too bad. I could've made it so much more fun for you." She shrugged and stepped back, her expression one of resignation. "Oh, well. If that's the way you want it…"

She looked up and her eyes flashed red. Dean steeled himself for… something. Not really having any idea how this was all supposed to go down, he could only watch her and wait, his muscles tense, his heart thumping in his throat. His brow furrowed in confusion as as her face changed from calm and cool to surprise to downright angry.

Suddenly she moved toward him and he took and involuntary step back. The demon grabbed for him, but pulled her hand back quickly as if burned.

"I told you what would happen if you tried to weasel out of the deal."

Dean shook his head in confusion. "What?"

The demon's face contorted in anger, it's eyes flashing red again before settling back to the dark brown of its host. "You blew it, Dean. Now Sammy's dead."

Dean stepped forward at the threat to his brother. "No! We had a deal! I didn't do anything! You can't –"

The demon raised a hand and Dean found himself airborne, landing hard a dozen yards away at the edge of the cornfield.

"Dean!"

Hearing his brother's voice, Dean quickly pushed himself to his feet and looked back towards the Impala. Sam was moving toward him and he held out a hand to stop his brother. "Sam! No! Stay there. I'm okay."

"Not for long." The demon moved toward him, covering the distance in amazing speed, grabbing him around the neck and lifting him from the ground. "I warned you, Dean. I made myself very clear."

Dean grabbed at the unnatural strength that held him aloft, trying to force air past the constricting grip around his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about," he gasped. "I didn't…" Black spots were beginning to dance in his vision and Dean found himself gasping for air that didn't seem to exist.

"Put him down!"

Dean forced his eyes open at his brother's voice. Sam was slowly making his way across the road, approaching the demon from it's left.

"Sam, no…"

Sam didn't take his eyes from the demon's face. "I said put him down."

The demon glanced at Sam, its smile feral. "He broke our deal."

"No, he didn't. I did."

The demon suddenly released its grip and Dean found himself on the ground, trying desperately to draw in oxygen. He placed his own hand around his neck, massaging it as the air painstakingly managed to wheeze in and out. As soon as the spots cleared from his vision, he looked up, spotting his brother kneeling next to him.

As soon as Sam could see Dean was able to breathe without difficulty, he turned his attention to the demon.

"Dean didn't break your deal. He had no idea about the amulet. I invoked it without his knowledge."

The demon shook its head and stared at Sam. "It doesn't matter –"

"Your word is your bond, right?" Sam quickly continued. It was obvious he had planned this intervention and he pressed his advantage. "That's what you told my brother back when he bargained for Evan Hudson's life. And you told him if _he_ tried to weasel out of the deal, it was off. Well, he kept his word. He came here intending to die. He didn't know anything about the amulet. You can't take him, and you can't harm me. Your deal. Your bond"

The demon stared at the two men before it in outrage, its ample chest heaving as it fought Sam's logic. Finally, it huffed and stomped away. Dean wanted to laugh. It looked more like a petulant child than a thousand year old evil demon. If he hadn't been so confused at what Sam was saying, he might have. But, as it was, he could only sit in the dirt, hand grasping at his sore neck, and stare at the events unfolding before him. The demon's eyes glowed bright and it took two steps towards them. "Fine. You win this time. But it's not over. Dean's soul belongs to me and I intend to collect."

Sam simply smiled. "Dean's soul belongs to Dean." He stood and faced the demon, placing himself between it and his injured brother. "Nobody's collecting anything."

The demon glared at Sam before shifting its attention to Dean, its face softening like one does when speaking to a beloved pet. "Watch your back, sugar. I will be."

And with that, the demon disappeared.

After a few moments of silence, Sam turned and made his way back to his brother who was still half sitting in the dirt. "You okay?"

Dean just stared at his brother, not really knowing what to say – and not really sure he would be able to if he thought of something. Sam seemed to understand his confusion and pulled his hand away from his neck. "It's okay. Let me see."

Ducking his head, Sam took a look at the beginnings of a dark bruise around his brother's neck, wincing along with Dean when he attempted to swallow. "I think it's just bruised," he sat back on his heels and allowed Dean to place his hand back around his throat. "But we should get some ice on it to keep it from swelling. You okay otherwise?"

Dean could only nod, his eyes never leaving his brother's face, still unsure of what exactly had happened.

Sam pulled him up, keeping a hand on his arm until he was steady. "Come on. I'll explain everything on the way back to the motel."

Dean pulled his arm away and shook his head. "No," he rasped around the fire beginning to build in his throat. "What the hell did you do?"

"Saved you," Sam stated. A ghost of a smile played around his lips and he allowed a relieved chuckle to escape before taking a deep breath and explaining. "I found it in one of Bobby's books."

Dean shook his head in confusion. "Found what?"

"Your amulet." Sam reached for the bronze pendant hanging around Dean's neck. "Apparently it's some kind of Peruvian artifact that when invoked protects the soul of whoever it's bonded to from certain types of evil. There was an invocation in the book, I just waited until you were asleep one night and chanted it, bonding the amulet to your soul and placing you under it's protection."

Dean grabbed the amulet with his free hand and stared at the small demon head. "Huh," he said thoughtfully. "You think that's why Dad told me to always keep it on? Just in case he needed to, you know, invoke it someday to protect us?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Would've been nice of him to let us in on it if that's the case. But I don't know. I don't think he really knew what it was any more than we did. He just knew it had some kind of power. Anyway, it worked."

"Dude, you could've told me." Dean's voice was getting harsher as his throat became more and more swollen. "I spent the last year making plans for a permanent vacation in hell!"

"I couldn't, Dean." Sam held up his hands in apology. "You know as well as I do how demons can get in your head. If this one could read your mind, there had to be absolutely no chance it could have seen you as duplicitous in this."

"Damnit, Sam. You could've gotten yourself killed."

"Yeah, but I didn't." Sam shrugged, not knowing what else to say. It was a risk. He knew that going in. But it was a risk he was willing to take. "I told you I'd do whatever it takes, Dean. I meant what I said."

"So you just said your little chant then hoped it was gonna work? That's why you insisted on sticking around?"

Sam shrugged again. "I was pretty sure it was going to work."

"Pretty sure?"

Sam grinned. "Really pretty sure."

"And if it didn't?"

"Then I was gonna go with Plan B."

Dean held out both hands, waiting for his brother to elaborate.

"Plan B," Sam pulled a pistol from the back of his belt. "Shooting the evil son of a bitch in the head and running like hell."

Dean returned his grin, a light of pride shining in his eyes. "That's my boy."

Before Dean could continue exacerbating his obviously raw throat, Sam grabbed his arm and turned him, propelling him back toward the Impala. "No more talking, Dean. It's over. We won. The demon's gone, you're still alive, I'm still alive, and we still have a job to do."

As they approached the Impala, Dean stopped and turned to face his brother, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Thanks, Sammy." His voice wasn't much more than scratchy whisper, but Sam could hear the emotion it contained. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

Sam smiled back. Dean wasn't much for emotional scenes, but that didn't mean his brother didn't feel those emotions just as deep – maybe deeper – than anyone else. Of course, he was still Dean.

"Now give me my keys."

And nothing else really mattered now did it?

End


End file.
